


Nightshade Tastes the Sweetest

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: Midsommar (2019)
Genre: Choking, Cults, Cunnilingus, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Good Things Come in Threes, I Mean How Healthy Can It Be When You're Being Brainwashed by a Cult, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, fucked up dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: Dani learns of another Hårga tradition.
Relationships: Dani Ardor/Pelle (Midsommar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 178





	Nightshade Tastes the Sweetest

She’d been with the Hårga for a month.

It felt like so much longer, and yet so much shorter, all at once. Time was strange to her now. She felt almost like a new person, like the Dani she had been burned along with Christian, went up in flames—except instead of dying she rose like a phoenix, new and shining and powerful.

At first—when the drugs and the euphoria and hysteria of trauma faced and released all wore off—she’d been convinced they would kill her next. The May Queen, the ultimate sacrifice, the last offering of blood in these nine days of unsanctimonious worship.

That wasn’t what happened at all.

Instead, she was given a bed in the youth lodge with her name carved on it, flowers painted all around and through the four letters like her May Queen wreath. Instead, Siv took her to her private home to have tea. Instead, she was given new clothes and shoes and a book on learning Swedish.

 _Welcome home,_ she had been told when she’d stepped into the compound.

_You are the family now, yes? Like sisters!_

Could it be?

A month had passed, and her hands had grown tough from learning farm work, she had grown used to sleeping through the light, and she could now manage a few stumbling phrases in Swedish. The Hårga smiled at her, and hugged her, and called her, on occasion, _sister_.

More often, they called her _our queen._

Siv explained it to her, even though Dani wasn’t quite sure if she believed her. “The May Queen of every ninety years it not the queen of just one rotation, as the others are. She is our leader for life. You will be trained as my successor.”

Siv smiled, and it was so warm, how could Dani not trust her? “We are so glad Pelle brought you to us. He spoke highly of you, but none of us could have known you would be such a blessing.”

Pelle.

It had been so long since she’d wanted someone, she’d forgotten what it felt like. But there was a fire in her when she thought of him, and it made her tremble.

After her talk with Siv, one of many as the woman guided her in the ways of the community and the ways of a leader, she went back to the youth lodge. She wasn’t even sure why, or what she was looking for, until she saw Pelle and knew—of course, it was him, all along.

He rose as she entered. “Dani.”

The Hårga, she’d found, were a community of huggers. After being touch starved for a year, it was a welcome change. But Pelle’s hugs always felt like something more.

_Does he feel like home to you?_

Dani sank into his embrace, her head on his chest. “Siv mentioned how highly you spoke of me, before I came here.”

“Oh?”

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I know what I’m doing here, with your people. I know who I’m becoming. But the one thing I don’t know is what I’m doing, who I am, with you.”

Pelle’s arms fell from her. “I… Dani.”

“You kissed me,” she reminded him. “After I became the May Queen.”

Pelle looked down, and then back up to meet her gaze once more. “I would kiss you a million times more, if you would let me.”

Dani wrapped her arms around his neck, and that was all he needed. Pelle seized her mouth with his, kissing her until she was dizzy.

She pressed herself to him, clung to him as her hands held her in place. The strength in his fingers was a revelation. He was so gentle, and yet, like the rest of his people, capable of great destruction. The thought of him giving that all to her had her kissing him with even more franticness.

It was like a dam had burst between them, and now their true roaring starvation was revealed. Pelle pressed kisses to her mouth, her neck, all over her face, and she gasped and held on tightly, careful to swallow her moans.

“Did you know?” she whispered in between his kisses. “From the beginning, did you…” There was no other word for it. “…did you hunt me?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Pelle admitted, his voice a rasp. “Not for death, but for ascension, for worship…”

She had been a sacrifice to him, in her own way, but oh, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Dani took his face in her hands and kissed him deep.

That seemed to give Pelle the encouragement he needed, because he lifted her up and laid her down on the bed, his knee spreading her legs. His mouth was hot and delicious on her neck and she bared her throat to him, dared him to rip it open. “It drove me mad how he had you and didn’t want you, how unappreciated you were, my queen, a goddess gone unworshipped…”

Dani panted against his temple, her fingers finding his tunic and twisting into it. “So you decided to claim me for yourself.”

“He could never give you what you wanted,” Pelle murmured, his lips right against her jaw. “But I can, you know I can, Dani, let me prove it to you…”

Dani bit her lip hard, even as her hips ground restlessly against his. Yes, she wanted it, she wanted _him_ in a way she hadn’t—oh fuck—his fingers slid up her legs, under her dress, so close to where she wanted them—inside her, yes, _yes,_ get inside, fuck her, fill her, mark her with his hot wet—

“Pelle.” The command from Siv was fond but also sharp with warning. “You know that is not how we do things.”

Dani, embarrassed, scrambled up to sitting as Pelle moved away from her. He didn’t seem embarrassed at being caught in a sexual situation—he seemed more ashamed to be breaking tradition.

“I’m sorry.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “But—Siv—I—”

She’d never seen Pelle as anything other than in control and contained, and the idea that she’d made him lose that composure pleased her.

Siv held up a hand. “I know. We have all known your patience.”

His patience. Did the whole village know of Pelle’s desire for her? Had they been waiting all this time for them to get together?

Siv looked at Dani. “It is not our custom to hide our couplings away in the dark. There are nights that are dedicated to pleasure, and we will not deny privacy when it is requested. But the reason for sex matters to us. For instance, there are rituals for sex to create a child. And if a couple wishes to be joined for longer than one night, then their first joining must be witnessed by the women of the Hårga.”

“Why?” What did it matter?

“We must make sure the relationship is healthy,” Pelle explained. “It’s to protect the woman. Make sure the man is worthy of her, and that they are compatible.”

“No woman is abandoned by her sisters,” Siv added with solemnity.

Dani swallowed. Public sex? Really? Was she up for it?

On the one hand, she wasn’t too keen on the idea of everyone getting to see the face she made when she orgasmed. Christian had always made fun of it. On the other hand, there wouldn’t be any men there. Just the women. And the idea of women being there to help if she felt bad or it went wrong…

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Pelle. It was that… she just didn’t know how this would go. Sex hadn’t really been _fun_ the past few times.

And if she wanted Pelle, apparently this was what she had to go through to get him. After dancing drugged for hours and setting her cheating scumbag boyfriend on fire in a bear suit, really, this wasn’t all that crazy.

Dani raised her chin. “All right then,” she said. “I want to respect the customs here. If that is how Pelle and I have to have sex our first time, then I’m up for it.”

Siv smiled with pride. “I will tell the others and we will prepare.”

Turned out, this was a whole _thing_.

She wasn’t allowed to see Pelle beforehand. Instead, she was bathed in scented water, her hair carefully washed and braided up. Oil was massaged into her skin and she was taken to a lodge where she was laid down in a circle of flowers.

The women, most of whom by now Dani recognized, smiled and praised her as she was stretched out naked on the flowers. “You’re so beautiful,” Inga assured her. “He will not know what to do with himself.”

“Oh, he’ll know what to do all right,” another murmured with a wicked gleam in her eye. “It’s Pelle.”

Some of the girls giggled and Inga winked at her, and then they all stepped back to form a circle, joining hands, like a protective barrier between Dani and the rest of the world.

The doors opened, and Pelle was led inside by Siv. He had apparently bathed as well, and he wore a simple white robe.

He saw her and froze, his cheeks pink, his mouth slack. “Dani.”

His voice was hoarse, and Dani found herself preening.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Pelle moved towards her and knelt between her legs. He continued to stare. “A queen indeed,” he whispered at last.

For once, her nakedness was not an issue. Even though it was still bright out and not a single angle of her could be hidden away. The only issue was that Pelle was not also naked. She wanted to see him, as he saw her.

The women hummed around her, swaying, and Dani felt safe. Safe with them, safe with Pelle, encircled by the aunts, the mothers, the sisters. They would never let her be mocked or hurt; they would take care of her. They could feel her pain and her pleasure, and she was safe with them.

Dani’s breath hitched as Pelle’s robes slid off his shoulders and his tie came undone. Could he see the hunger she felt as each inch of his skin was revealed to her? She hardly even knew herself, wasn’t sure she’d recognize the starving woman in the mirror if someone had held one up for her.

Pelle’s own gaze was hungry, too, heavy-lidded, flushed, and for once Dani didn’t want to cover her nakedness. She lay there and let him look.

More of Pelle’s clothes fell away, and as he gazed at her, she gazed back, took in the measure of him. Her mouth watered. Sex had become such a perfunctory thing, a duty rather than a pleasure, and she’d forgotten what it was to look at a thick, full cock and _want_.

Without even thinking about it, her legs spread.

That seemed to be what Pelle was waiting for. He moved forward, still so slow and deliberate, padding on all fours like an animal, a curious wolf, and Dani lay still, the willing deer.

Pelle held his body carefully away from her, not a single part of them touching, until he hovered over her. Dani could feel herself growing hotter, his cock, his hands, his body so close and yet so far.

He leaned in, still so careful, and kissed her.

It was a more chaste kiss than the ones he’d given her before, almost a greeting more than anything else. His lips were soft against hers and Dani felt her lips seal to his, catching and sticking to his mouth as he pulled away.

Pelle winked at her, a sly thing, and Dani found herself smiling back as he moved back down and nuzzled between her legs.

She inhaled sharply and felt hot slick sliding out of her in a rush, coating her thighs, making her skin gleam in invitation. She hadn’t expected this. Christian had never—well, no one had ever—and she’d been afraid to ask. She’d always been afraid to ask for anything.

Pelle kissed her thighs, licked away the slick like he was cleaning her up, his tongue a wicked and innocent thing at the same time, lapping at her like he was tasting her.

His tongue dragged up through her folds and Dani’s toes curled, her heels digging into the dirt, knees bending. She inhaled sharply and the women around her inhaled as well, in tandem, in response.

Pelle seemed completely unaware of the circle of onlookers. His hands moved to Dani’s thighs and gently pushed them up and back, exposing her further to his mouth. He licked at her with a single-minded determination that was almost hotter than the actual sensations he was giving her.

Slowly, unsure if she should, she raised her hand up and slid her fingers into Pelle’s thick golden curls.

Pelle groaned against her skin and she knew it was the right thing to do. She tightened her hold, and he sped up his tongue, swirling it around her clit.

Dani arched up, her mouth falling open on another gasp. _There,_ she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to order, she didn’t want to demand or be greedy, not when he was already doing this favor for her—

The women around her hummed and whispered encouragingly and Dani stared at the head between her legs, her mind clearing.

Why shouldn’t she order? Why shouldn’t she demand? She was the May Queen. She was Siv’s successor, the next leader of the village. Had Pelle not told her time and again what she was to him?

“There,” she whispered, and the women echoed her, _there, there, there_. She said it again, louder, “There, Pelle, there…”

He moaned against her skin and did as he was told, curling his tongue under her clit, pressing the flat of it down, grinding, and Dani echoed his moan as pleasure spiraled up through her spine. She’d never felt anything like this, softness and pressure all at once, and she wanted—she wanted—

“More,” she gasped out. _More, more, more._ “Please, Pelle…”

His fingers stroked her thighs as he slid his tongue inside of her, sucking on her clit, and Dani’s head fell back. She stared unseeing up at the roof of the lodge as Pelle thoroughly, deliberately ate her out. It was like he was sucking marrow from bone, wine from a jug, feasting and savoring.

He took his time, clearly, and the pleasure built up in her like slow waves. It rose up her spine and spread through her limbs, and she bit her lip hard on instinct to keep in the noises. Only certain sounds were sexy, the breathy gasps and pretty little moans. Everything else was to be kept inside. She’d forgotten what it was even like to have noises slide out of her involuntarily, everything a show, a performance, to make herself more desirable even in the middle of fucking.

Now, though, she had no fucking control over the sounds, and so she had to keep them in, she didn’t want to—

Warm, firm hands, the hands of aunts and mothers and sisters, gently stroked her face. They worked her jaw open, moaning and gasping, encouraging her.

Pelle gave her just a hint of teeth against her clit and she cried out, her chest vibrating, thighs contracting. It was so _good_ , she couldn’t stop herself, and the women around her echoed her cry.

 _This is good,_ they seemed to say, just as they had when they’d cried and sobbed and mourned with her. _This is right._

A litany of noises spilled from her lips as Pelle consumed her, until there was no longer a need for hands at her jaw. Her mouth hung open all on its own.

Pelle didn’t stop, he never stopped, he was relentless, at last hitching her legs over his shoulders and sliding his hands under her ass to raise her up, tilt her hips, and devour her with even more enthusiasm. Dani sobbed, something unwinding in her too fast, too hot, the idea of such a noise as a positive thing making her unspool like a ball of yarn. Pelle sucked and licked at her like he’d never do anything else again, like he’d drown in her, like he was trying to crawl into the heart of her—

Dani shuddered, her fingertips and toes on fire as she came.

Pelle didn’t stop, licked her clean as she shook and let out strange mewling noises from the back of her throat, noises echoed by the chorus. It was only once she started to come down that he pulled back and peppered kisses along her inner thighs, before finding a spot he seemed to like in particular and sucked at it, making a bruise bloom there like a flower.

He set her on the ground, and Dani reached for him weakly. Somehow he had made her even hungrier, made her feel even emptier than before. She wanted him to fill her. She wanted him to make her ache.

Pelle set his mouth to her again, this time moving upward, taking his time. Dani appreciated the chance to catch her breath, but it wasn’t enough. She loved Pelle’s softness, his respect, his consideration. But she also loved the intensity in his eyes when he looked at her, the way he pinned her like a butterfly so that she felt she couldn’t escape.

She wanted that. Pelle had saved her, comforted her, but he had also hunted her. She wanted him to stop hiding, she wanted _all_ of him.

His teeth tugged at her nipple and Dani tugged on his hair, groaning, hips canting up into empty air. She was hungry, too, she also wanted to feed. “Pelle…”

“Beautiful.” Pelle licked and sucked at her breasts, sounding absolutely wrecked.

She’d always felt rather embarrassed about her breasts. She’d developed quickly and had been teased mercilessly through high school, made to feel like an object, wearing oversized sweaters to avoid the stares. Christian had often made comments, to the point where sometimes she’d wondered if it was her breasts that had gotten him to ask her out instead of her actual personality.

But now, she was surrounded by women chanting for her, echoing her cries, supporting her, and Pelle kissed her breasts like he was unworthy, like he was honored, and between the two—Dani started to think she might actually like that part of her body again.

“Get up here,” she whispered. “Pelle, please.”

He moved up to her immediately, like there was a string tied around his neck and she’d just tugged on it. Dani framed his face in her hands as he braced his arms on either side of her head. His eyes were so very blue, ice blue, and yet so warm. His stubble was rough against her thumbs as she stroked them across his cheeks. He watched her, silent, waiting, as her chorus rocked from side to side.

Dani tugged him downward. She could taste herself on his tongue as she kissed him.

Pelle’s body pressed down, at last, to hers, every line and curve of them meeting up. His aching cock was against her hip, twitching, hot and leaking, and Dani felt herself getting slicker in preparation. “Fuck me,” she whispered.

 _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,_ the women amplified.

“Please.”

Pelle kissed her, and there was something vicious in that kiss, something Dani craved. “You will never have to say please to me,” he promised her. “Only _yes_. You will not have to ask. You will be fulfilled.”

Heat shivered through her once again. She pressed her lips to his ear. “Make me forget there was ever another man inside me.”

Pelle groaned, his cock jerking, slick sliding down from the tip, and Dani’s inner walls clenched in response, wanting that, wanting him.

His fingers spread her, and she found her scream choking the back of her throat as he slid himself inside. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, and even longer since she’d enjoyed it. She’d forgotten how easily a cock could go inside of her, when she was wet and wanting it.

Pelle made a surprised sound, as if he hadn’t expected her to welcome him so easily, as if he’d thought he would have to take more care with her. He moved as deliberately as always until his hips were flush to hers, all of him contained inside of her, and Dani found herself panting for breath.

The women panted with her, turning her sensory overload into a rhythm that, oddly, soothed her, and she got her breathing back under control. Pelle kissed softly along her jaw, her neck, but she didn’t want his softness. She wanted the animal she’d nearly had back in the sleeping lodge the other day, she wanted that hot shivery darkness that pooled between her legs and echoed in his eyes.

Pelle drew back until only the tip of his cock was inside her, and then slowly slid back in, a deep and powerful stroke that had her vision blurring. “Goddess,” he told her. His voice was thick, and his lips on her collarbone a brand.

He slid out and then back in again, sweet and slow and deep, and it reverberated through her like she was a violin and he’d plucked the right string—but it wasn’t enough. No, no, these careful strokes weren’t nearly enough.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and wrapped her leg around his waist, keeping him inside of her.

“You said you were mine.” Dani didn’t recognize her own voice, the starving, possessive snarl that lurked underneath the surface of it. “And you are. Now make me yours.”

Pelle made a sound like ropes snapping and he slammed into her, making Dani scream. His pace was rough now, brutal, and she scored his back with her nails as she let herself be taken, _claimed_.

“Fuck me.” She couldn’t tell if she was pleading or ordering. “ _Fuck_ me, Pelle.”

His teeth sank into her shoulder as he followed her orders, a perpetual growl in the back of his throat as he finally unleashed on her. Dani’s breaths were nothing more than desperate, loud pants with cries lurking around the edges of them, echoed by the women who swayed and arched and thrust with her, and as they grew louder so did she. There was no shame in her noises, in her desires, not when she was merely one of many, not when they so eagerly repeated all she did.

She rolled her hips up to him, met his thrusts with hers, and the Hårga women around her cried out as if in joy, as if happy to see her participating. Pelle kissed frantically along her shoulder, her neck, sticky sucking kisses that were sure to leave bruises. Like he was making her a necklace of flowers, a whole different sort of crowning.

It was so much. It was _too_ much, rough in a way that had her feeling stuffed and split open, but it only made her feel so much _better_. She liked riding that slick knife’s edge, she wanted more of it, wanted it rougher, _harder_ —

Oh, if only Christian could see her now. He’d called her frigid, distant, vanilla, boring in bed. He’d said she had no sense of adventure. She wished she could raise his bones up from the dead and make them witness this, make him see her scream with ecstasy as she was fucked like an animal, as her hair was pulled and her throat bit, as she was taken in the most primal way possible and squirmed for more of it.

He’d die all over again of a fucking heart attack, and she would laugh through her orgasm.

She shoved her hips up in frantic tilts to take Pelle into her, to willingly spear herself, Pelle’s hands alternately clawing at the dirt and pressing against her skin, smearing her with the dark, rich earth, dirtying her up. It sent a voracious thrill through her. Dani tangled her fingers in his hair, pulled hard, scratched up his arm with her other hand, and got a delicious smack on her ass for her troubles. The cry she let out was amplified by their onlookers and she nearly began to cry with how wild, how free, how depraved she felt.

“Harder,” she ordered. “Rougher.”

As if challenging her, Pelle pushed himself up. His hand found her throat, his fingers stroking soft as a kiss of wind. “Dani. _Dani_. Do you know what you ask of me? How you tempt me?”

Dani felt as though her body sparked, like she was a pyre about to catch flame. “I’m not a fainting flower. I’m _Hårga_. I’m the _queen_.”

There was no going back from that—not in this moment, not in this joining, but also not in her life. She had left the last of her old self behind. She was one of them, now.

Pelle’s eyes flashed with blue lightning and his hand squeezed and braced on her throat, cutting off her air. His thrusts became shallower but faster, harder, punctuated by a swivel of his hips that flashed white-hot pleasure through her bones.

She couldn’t breathe, her life entirely in his hands, and it always had been but never so literal, and she nearly came from it.

Pelle relaxed his hand and she and the other women gasped, inhaled raggedly, the relief a whole other sort of euphoria—and then he choked her again. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes once he released his hold yet again, and even as her body writhed with fear, the fear only made it better, made the pleasure stronger.

The aunts, the mothers, the sisters were with her. They would never let a man hurt her. She knew that in her blood. And Pelle would never take her too far.

He choked her a final time, the longest, and Dani’s body bucked, shook, screaming with unholy delight, and when he released her she sobbed with equal amounts of pleasure and loss.

Pelle bit at her ear, tugged on it. “I would take you like this every night, have you until you can’t walk and I will carry you about, until you lose your voice from screaming, when you’re seventy-two I will kill you with kisses, Dani, Dani, I knew you would love to be hunted,” and just as he had told her, the only way she could respond was _yes, yes, yes._

She drew blood from his lip as she came, kissing him viciously, her orgasm blinding her. She wanted him to fuck her like this until she died.

Pelle’s hips slowed, returning to that deep, careful rhythm as she rode out her ecstasy, and the women around her screamed their support as Dani’s cry echoed against the walls of the lodge.

But Pelle was still hard inside of her, and she was not yet finished with him.

His eyes were closed, his reddened mouth open, as if having her come around him was the greatest pleasure he’d ever felt. Dani pushed herself up and took him by the shoulder, turning them.

“I was yours,” she said, her voice raw, sweat sliding down her body. She placed him under her and straddled him. “Now you are mine.”

She’d never done this before, either. Why not, she couldn’t say. It was probably a combination of things—fear of taking control, fear of her own body and pleasure, an ingrained societal distaste for showing herself off, the whispered words that women ought to be submissive, to be under—and countless other little things she couldn’t name.

But now she was here, a queen on her throne, full and yet still feeding.

Dani slid her hands up Pelle’s sweat-slick chest, braced herself, and pushed her hips up, then down, drawing him out and taking him back in.

Pelle swore violently and grabbed onto her hips to steady the both of them. Only the thinnest rim of blue could be seen burning around the blown-black of his pupils. He stared at her like he was seeing creation.

Dani’s hair began to slip free of its braid as she fucked herself on his cock. Underneath the sound of the women, there was the filthy _slap slap slap_ of their skin together, the slick squish of her orgasm coating his cock and her folds, the heavy grunting of Pelle’s own breaths. His fingers left bruises on her waist, but it was only fair—she marked up his stomach and chest as she had his back and shoulders, her nails merciless.

Dani could be a predator, too.

After two orgasms, every thrust left shivery pain in her stomach along with the pleasure, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she came again. Pelle seemed to know it too, losing his rhythm, losing control, and Dani tightened herself around him.

“Come for me.” She felt greedy. She felt vindicated. “Come for me, Pelle, mark me up, I want to feel how much you love me—”

He had never said that word, and neither had she. It was such a loaded word, and she wanted no promises. But it slid out of her, nothing gentle or romantic about it, a ferocious, raw wolf’s snarl, and Pelle mouthed it in response, his gaze fixed steadily on her.

Dani was not, she was quickly learning, above playing a little dirty. She leaned backward, propping herself up against Pelle’s thighs to take him even deeper inside of her, and slid her hands over her own body, squeezed her breasts, put herself on display.

“Did you know,” she gasped, trying for nonchalant and only managing to sound feral, “that I never let Christian do this? We always wore a condom.”

With a boldness she never could have imagined for herself a month ago, she slid her fingers between her legs and rubbed at her clit, making her body squeeze around Pelle’s cock.

“ _He_ never got to stain me.” She rubbed harder, faster. _Fuck_ it was too much and it felt _amazing_. “Fill me.”

Her voice trailed off and strangled itself as she came, not even having enough energy to give it any volume this time. She felt like she was on fire, her whole body shook like a seizure, but she knew as she came down from it that she did manage to whisper Pelle’s name.

The look on Pelle’s face as he stared at her—as he saw her come—he never flinched or looked away. There was no place for either of them to hide, and instead of mockery or disgust on his features, Dani saw only rapture.

Pelle made a noise like she had dug her nails into his heart and bucked into her once, twice, three times, and came. It was hot and wet and disgusting, sliding out of her and onto her thighs and his, staining her skin inside and out, filthy, fuck, she loved it.

The women around them began to take deep, calming breaths, and Dani mimicked them, trying to come down from the high and get her wild heart under control before it beat itself right out of her chest.

She sank down, careful to keep Pelle inside of her. He would soften soon, she knew that, but she wanted that joining just a little longer, wanted to keep him warm and hard within her for just another few minutes.

Pelle wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair. At last, he acknowledged the women around him, looking up at Siv.

Dani nuzzled into Pelle’s neck, her eyes closing. Someone drew a blanket over them both. Mother hands, aunt hands, sister hands, carded through her hair. _Good job, good job, good job._

“Yes,” Siv said to Pelle’s silent question. “You two may have the blessing of the Hårga. You are healthy for each other.”

Dani wanted to question the woman’s definition of ‘healthy’ but what was health, anyhow? What was right? What was wrong? No such thing mattered anymore. There was only what made her feel like home.

And home was Pelle.


End file.
